Stray Birds
Each morning they come
Sunshine fluttered wings
My window. A lonely aisle
A few crawlies where roses bloomed
The summers haven't faded.
My paradise hidden eyes
A dreamy twilight folds,
This soul is stray
Season tied feet. They are raw
An urge to fly.
A dreamy twilight folds,
This soul is stray
Season tied feet. They are raw
An urge to fly.
Bones build a playhouse
Broken doors ~
At thirteen
My first periods,
That year my grandma died too.
Broken doors ~
At thirteen
My first periods,
That year my grandma died too.
A lonely road shadows
The journal of a journey,
Unwinds.
Where unknown persists
A young skin of an old soul
Eyes speak an isolation
Stray birds of seasons
The depths of nights
Born to fly homeless.
The journal of a journey,
Unwinds.
Where unknown persists
A young skin of an old soul
Eyes speak an isolation
Stray birds of seasons
The depths of nights
Born to fly homeless.
Rabindranath Tagore's “Stray Birds” [frontispiece] -- Willy Pogány
In 1913 Rabindranath Tagore was the first non-European to win the Nobel Prize in Literature. He was the youngest of 13 surviving children, many of whom had distinguished careers; his oldest brother Dwijendranath was a philosopher and poet, another brother, Jyotirindranath, was a musician, composer, and playwright, and his sister Swarnakumari became a novelist; another brother, Satyendranath, was the first Indian appointed to the Indian Civil Service. But Rabindranath outshone them all. Tagore wrote poetry as an 8-year-old and at the age of 16 under the pseudonym Bhānusiṃha ("Sun Lion") he released his first substantial poems and also invented the Bengali-language short story genre with "Bhikharini" ("The Beggar Woman"). A prolific poet, dramatist, and novelist, he also composed some 2,230 songs, including the national anthems of India and Bangladesh. In 1916 he published “Stray Birds,” 320 English aphorisms, beginning with:
ReplyDeleteStray birds of summer come to my window to sing and fly away.
And yellow leaves of autumn, which have no songs, flutter and fall there with a sigh.
O troupe of little vagrants of the world, leave your footprints in my words.
The world puts off its mask of vastness to its lover.
It becomes small as one song, as one kiss of the eternal.
The following are a selection from “Stray Birds”:
Life finds its wealth by the claims of the world, and its worth by the claims of love.
The dry river-bed finds no thanks for its past.
The bird wishes it were a cloud. The cloud wishes it were a bird.
…
The fish in the water is silent, the animal on the earth is noisy, the bird in the air is singing,
But Man has in him the silence of the sea, the noise of the earth and the music of the air.
The world rushes on over the strings of the lingering heart making the music of sadness.
He has made his weapons his gods. When his weapons win he is defeated himself.
…
The sparrow is sorry for the peacock at the burden of its tail.
…
The bird thinks it is an act of kindness to give the fish a lift in the air.
…
In the dusk of the evening the bird of some early dawn comes to the nest of my silence.
Thoughts pass in my mind like flocks of ducks in the sky.
I hear the voice of their wings.
…
My evening came among the alien trees and spoke in a language which my morning stars did not know.
…
Set bird's wings with gold and it will never again soar in the sky.
…
Timid thoughts, do not be afraid of me.
I am a poet.
…
The bird-song is the echo of the morning light back from the earth.
…
Love's pain sang round my life like the unplumbed sea, and love's joy sang like birds in its flowering groves.
A poignant and delicately beautiful poem strewn with some lovely images and an equally enriching write by Duane .A sure treat for any poetry lover .
ReplyDeleteThank You Mallika didi for reading and for appreciating it. Means so much when such a comment comes from a poet of your calibre. Regards. 😊
ReplyDeleteA lovely and touching poem with beautiful images and with a very enlightening note by Duane Vorhees.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Padmashri for reading . I feel humbled.
ReplyDelete